Work Text:
bark.
your nose twitches as you sniff the air. the corpses are delicacies, baked by the light of the sun that owns you, their sweet aromas finding their way to you. your tongue flicks out and you can taste each shade of blood, like fruit juice dribbling down, and you lick your lips.
bark.
the clown is with you too. it's thanks to him you're here and thanks to you that he is; you're both responsible for each other's existences. you are two faces of a roman coin; you are partners in crime. he helps you collect the bodies.
bark.
you dart between space, not moving at all, and the sickly green sunlight carries you through some twisted photosynthesis. you collect them one by one, and you become the mailman you always hated; the thought makes you scratch at yourself and growl just a little, before you shake yourself of your thoughts like drops of water in a spray and move again.
bark.
when you get to the girls with holes straight through, you bury your snout right in, madly licking the edges of the scabbing flesh and tearing it again so that the blood starts to flow once more, and the royal colors rich in hue paint your lips and stain your dress. you are a mess of pink and jade.
bark.
you wipe your mouth with your hands, leaving colorful streaks along their backs until you lick them off all over again, batting your eyelashes at the blankly staring eyes looking up at you. then you take them in your hands and make them small, so small that you could wear them on your fingers like rings, except you have a better use for them. slipping out a keyring you clip them on, two grey faced girls on a metal circle, sliding back and forth when you swing it.
bark.
you look back at your partner in crime and think with feral detachment how many keyrings he would fit on, with every tiny circle in his chest an invitation. but you know he's important still so you don't try to add him, you merely shake your keyring and grin with him at the satisfying sounds of the tiny girls colliding. he laughs with you.
honk.
bark.
honk.